Back to Black
by potionseagle
Summary: A Back to the Future inspired Lumione. The war is over, but Hermione must ensure that it stays that way by going back in time just as she already had, posing as a cousin of the Black sisters. With little instruction and an overwhelming attraction, she finds herself enamored with a young Lucius Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This has been swimming around my head for a while. I've been trying to focus on my other in progress stories, but I've been missing Lumione a little too much. This was intended to be a one shot to get Lumione out of my system but it's going to be much longer than that. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 _May 2, 1998_

Hermione looked around the Great Hall with a bittersweet feeling—it was over, but so many had paid the cost.

Some time later, she felt someone tugging at her robes. She turned to see Professor McGonagall looking at her with pity.

"Will you come with me, dear? I'm afraid it's quite urgent."

Still very much in the wartime spirit, Hermione's body immediately reacted with adrenaline, her heart thumping quickly as she silently followed her old Transfiguration professor. It quickly became apparent that they were heading to the Headmaster's office, but Hermione didn't comment.

After stating the password—lily—Professor McGonagall placed a hand on her shoulder. "Dumbledore's portrait has requested an audience with you," she said quietly. "I asked to delay, in light of the long night we have all had, but he rather insisted. I'll be in my office if you need me."

Hermione nodded before entering the office. It was different than she remembered. The trinkets that had been its trademark had been removed. Still, she found the smiling face of Dumbledore, now in a portrait rather than behind the desk.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"I am not your professor any more, Ms. Granger. And you certainly are no student. But yes, you heard correctly. I must ask you to complete one last task."

"But Voldemort is defeated, sir," Hermione argued, hoping that somehow Dumbledore's portrait was confused.

"Yes. In part because of this task."

"I am afraid I don't catch your meaning," An edge of irritation crept into Hermione's voice.

"I met you before you met me, nearly four decades ago now. It took me almost that long to discover how you were able to achieve that time leap, and it was Severus who replicated the potion you used, but your special cocktail is ready for you. The orange bottle in the second drawer."

"But Professor, what must I do—"

"Your task is to maintain the timeline. I wrote down all the information you appeared to know before your travel."

Hermione stared up at Dumbledore, momentarily frozen before digging through the second drawer. She quickly found the orange vial with a note that bore her name. It wasn't a letter so much as scribbles. The note listed her name as Ursa Black. Several things were crossed out, such as that she knew the Black sisters. Next to those crossed-out lines, Dumbledore had written "posing as dead cousin from France, entire family killed in muggle bombing over the summer. Families appear estranged—many years since they had seen Ursa. Cover story is that Ursa wants to be close to family. Real Ursa would have been seventh year at Beauxbatons. Arrive Sept 1 at station." That was it. That was all she had.

"Professor Dumbledore, can't you tell me anything else?"

"I think it's best you know as little as you appeared to then."

Hermione rolled the orange vial between her hands for a moment, her eyes straying wistfully to the door. Having avoided the crowds before from exhaustion, she now found herself desperately wanting to participate in the celebration. But there might not be a celebration if she were there.

Reluctantly, she turned to face Dumbledore once more. "How will I get back?"

"The potion is temporary." Her heart lifted somewhat. "You will return in one year."

 _A year? One whole year?_ Thinking back to the year she had just spent, and how it felt like an eternity, Hermione nearly burst into tears. Instead, she stood up straighter, steeling herself for what was ahead and downing the liquid. It was vile—sour and sickly sweet all at once. The room spun as she collapsed.

* * *

 _September 1, 1961_

"Miss, miss, can you hear me?"

She awoke to a young blond man hovering over her. He was wearing what would in her time be considered dress robes that were blue with strange markings.

"Yes, I can." Hermione had to suppress her shock when her voice came out through a fog of a thick French accent. But how—Hermione inwardly groaned as she remembered how Dumbledore had described the potion. It must have been a "special cocktail" indeed. "Thank you for your assistance. I am afraid I am rather prone to fainting," she said in her best damsel-in-distress voice. The train hovered to her left; she was already through the barrier, then. It was no wonder the clearly pureblooded student was so kind to her.

"Lucius!" A flirtatious voice screamed before the owner of the voice threw her arms around her savior—who was apparently Lucius Malfoy. Hermione could see it once she had been told, but never would have guessed it. There was no sneer present, his hair was cut short, and he seemed less angry, certainly.

The owner of the voice withdrew and extended her hand to Hermione, but Hermione made the connection first. Realizing that the woman in front of her was Andromeda, she flung her arms around a now stunned figure before blurting out, "Cousin!"

As she let go, Andromeda's eyes widened, quickly making the connection. Andromeda pulled her into a longer embrace but reluctantly pulled apart. "Ursa, we thought you had died. What happened?"

"Everyone else did, but I managed to slip out." Hermione wracked her brain, and her mind strayed to one of her first associations with purebloods—their slaves. "Our house elf of all things apparated me out. I don't think there was enough time to get everyone else. It went back, but..." Hermione struggled not to wince at the use of "it," but considering that she had no idea of the gender of the elf and she was impersonating a pureblood from years ago, it was probably for the best. She thought it was a safe bet that Andromeda would not know the name of the elf.

"Well thank Salazar one of you survived. Mother and Father will be so—"

"I hate to cut off this reunion, but we need to board the train," Lucius cut in with an odd, goofy smile on his face as he flung his arm around Andromeda again and wordlessly levitated all the luggage.

Hermione walked behind the pair, curiously analyzing their interaction. What had happened between now and Andromeda marrying Ted Tonks?

After they boarded, Lucius pushed open one of the train compartments where a young Bellatrix and Narcissa were sitting. The first thing that Hermione noticed was that Bellatrix was strikingly beautiful. She had her head leaning against the window with a bored expression on her face. Her eyebrows were thick and straight, her eyelashes so long they nearly bumped against her brows. Her hair was the curly force it had always been.

She turned toward the door a beat after it had opened, her left eyebrow raised. "Who did you collect on your way here, 'Dromeda?"

Narcissa glanced at Hermione as well, though she didn't openly stare. She seemed much shier than Hermione remembered her being. Her silvery hair was wrapped up in a stern bun, her blue eyes more scared than icy. She wasn't as thin as she had been at Malfoy Manor, giving her face a rounder appearance that made her look less aristocratic.

"It's Ursa!" Andromeda exclaimed.

Bellatrix merely shrugged. "Congratulations on not being dead, I suppose."

"Er—thanks," Hermione attempted to reply with a smile.

"That's rather harsh, dear," Lucius responded icily. Bellatrix glared at him in response; it was immediately clear that there was no love lost between the two. "Her entire family did just perish."

"Not her entire family. She has us." Bellatrix countered.

"How lucky," Lucius said dryly, his comment directed at Bellatrix alone.

"Let's try to find another compartment," Andromeda attempted to maintain her cheer, but her words tumbled out slightly awkwardly. "There isn't enough room for all of us here, anyway."

"Don't look at me," Bellatrix responded, twirling her hair. "I have no opinion on the matter."

"Cissa?" Andromeda asked.

Narcissa's eyes widened, but Bellatrix spoke up first. "Cissy wants to sit with me."

Narcissa nervously nodded in agreement. "Fine," was Andromeda's response, unable to keep her annoyance out of her voice any longer.

They managed to find an empty compartment toward the end of the train. Hermione was surprised at first, but then mused that there were likely less students in this time, and the train appeared to be the same size.

Andromeda loudly sighed as they plopped down into the seats. After no one responded, she turned to Hermione. "You're probably wondering what's happened to Bella."

"Yeah..."

"Aren't we all?" Lucius commented.

Andromeda shot him a soft warning look, and he looked properly chastised.

"The Dark Lord has taken a special interest in her, giving her private lessons, and it's just gone to her head a bit. I'm sure she'll get past it," Andromeda seemed like she was trying to convince herself more than Hermione.

Hermione tried to keep the sadness out of her smile, her knowledge of the future already feeling like a heavy burden to carry.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Apologies for the incredibly long wait on this second chapter! I had some unexpected health problems come up shortly after I started this, and once I got back into writing I was focusing on my other neglected stories. I've been missing Lumione, though, and have finally felt ready to jump back into this one.

* * *

 _September 1, 1961_

As the train made its familiar sharp curve on the last leg of the journey, Hermione's stomach was growing tenser. She had made no arrangements whatsoever to be admitted to Hogwarts during her last year of school, and it would be difficult to explain why she made no attempt to contact the headmaster ahead of time.

And so as she filtered into the entrance hall with her new "family," she quickly excused herself. _Better to make a scene than wait for someone else to do so_ , she decided. With that comforting thought, Hermione strode up to the teacher's table, all eyes on her.

"Professor Dumbledore, I believe?" Hermione asked a much younger Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore regarded her with caution but waited for her to continue rather than questioning her immediately. It was just her luck that the headmaster, Professor Dippet, was sitting right next to Dumbledore, regarding her with open irritation. (She had recognized Professor Dippet from _Hogwarts, A History_.)

"We spoke over letter. Ursa Black," she introduced herself with confidence.

Dumbledore's eyebrow quirked slightly as he shook her hand but remained silent.

Hermione's mind raced. She had to figure out what to say to him that would let him know that he knew her somehow. "You were so kind in your letter, Professor, telling me that help is always given to those at Hogwarts who ask for it." Hermione allowed herself a bit of relief as she saw her gamble paid off; it _was_ something he had said even as long as thirty-odd years ago. The suspicion in his eye turned to the traditional twinkle. "I sincerely appreciate being given the opportunity to study alongside my family after the death of my parents," she continued.

"Of course, Ms. Black," Dumbledore spoke up. He turned to Professor Dippet. "Armando, I believe it slipped my mind to discuss this with you. This young lady has lost her family in tragic circumstances and wishes to be with her remaining family. I knew you would not have the heart to deny her request."

Professor Dippet turned red briefly, looking as though he would prefer to reject Hermione's request, but instead merely said, "Very well, very well. Sit with your family for now, Ms. Black, you're disrupting the Sorting. You can be sorted after the other newcomers."

Hermione scurried back to the Slytherin table where Andromeda had saved her a seat. She wasn't going to second guess her luck.

Andromeda leaned over toward her. "What's happening?"

"They're going to sort me after they sort the new students." Hermione quickly realized her slip up. "The other new students, I mean," she corrected with a smile.

Bellatrix turned around from her conversation with one of the Slytherin boys Hermione had yet to meet. "If you're sorted into another house, you may as well run back to your little French school." Her tone was eerily reminiscent of the way she had spoken to Hermione and her friends at the Department of Mysteries.

The Slytherin boy followed Bellatrix's lead and sneered at Hermione before falling back into conversation with the future Death Eater. Lucius must have noticed Hermione's apparent distress from her memories because he leaned over across the table and reassured her, "Ignore Bella. She's only baiting you."

Hermione didn't look up, choosing instead to simply nod as she fidgeted with her plain black robes.

She must have been in her own world because she heard people around her insisting it was her turn to be sorted rather than ascertain her next step from the magically booming voice of Dippet.

Nervously, she walked toward the front, already filling her thoughts with what she hoped would sound like shouting to the sorting hat. _Please Slytherin_ , she thought repeatedly.

But the sorting hat did not need her pleading. The hat barely touched her head before shouting "Slytherin!" to the entire hall. Hermione managed a smile and was partly pleased—she had wanted Slytherin, after all—but she felt unsettled. She had thought she would have to beg the hat to place her in the house of snakes.

Perhaps it was the potion that Professor Dumbledore had given her? But if a potion could trick the Sorting Hat, surely purebloods would have figured that out eons ago. And it couldn't have been the mental shouting—Harry had told her he tried that, and it took ages for the hat to listen. So that would leave the possibility that she had somehow become a Slytherin, and not just any Slytherin, but so Slytherin that the hat need not consider any other house.

As though reading her mind, Lucius commented on how quickly the hat decided. "I've never seen it that fast since Bellatrix was sorted."

Bellatrix sneered but appeared to reassess Ursa.

Hermione half-listened at the welcome feast, still a bit distressed over how her sorting went and the comparison to Bellatrix. Even more disconcerting was the fact that Hermione was fairly sure that Bellatrix was the oldest, which meant there was a solid chance they would be roommates.

"Ursa?" Andromeda asked, seemingly not for the first time.

"I'm sorry, I was in my head a bit," Hermione apologized. "What was that?"

"I was just asking where you've been since the…" She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Since the bombing, you mean?" Hermione asked bluntly, her mind racing. She had no idea how much time had passed, only that the bombing occurred over the summer. It was incredibly doubtful that the bombing would have taken place the morning she got on the train, and that wouldn't have worked, anyway; she had an entire trunk full of clothing that she must have bought after the bombing if her story were to make any sense. Her "house elf" would have gotten other family out before grabbing any of her clothing, _and_ she had Hogwarts clothes. What a mess.

"Well…" Hermione said slowly as she thought through a plausible story. After some digging through her memory, she came up with the name of the primary French wizarding bank, mentally thanking her parents for their trip to wizarding Paris. "First, of course, I had to collect money from our family vault at Maison Monnaie. I stayed nearby at Le Chalet Pur," Hermione laughed internally for her use of the snobby, ancient hotel she saw while in Paris, "and wrote to Professor Dumbledore from there."

"Why Dumbledore?" Lucius asked lightly with a wrinkled nose that made Andromeda giggle.

 _What an excellent question_ , Hermione mused to herself. "I was familiar with his work on alchemy and thought that I might have better success writing to him since I had more to say than a tragic tale," Hermione finished, putting on a sad expression in an attempt to make up for her abysmal cover story.

The questions soon ceased for the evening, and she excused herself from the table relatively early, noting her tiredness from an eventful day.

"Where are you going?" Bellatrix sneered as Hermione began to leave the table, forgetting again that she was supposed to be a new student. She was decidedly not good at lying consistently.

"Thanks for not letting me forget for a moment, Bellatrix, that I don't belong here," Hermione responded drily; it was clear that she couldn't play a clueless, kind cousin _and_ create and remember a full backstory. They would just have to do with something more closely resembling Hermione.

Bellatrix smiled a sly smile in return. " _There's_ the Ursa I remember," she said. "Come. I believe I'm losing having my room to myself, so I may as well show you to it."

Hermione shot a backward glance at Andromeda and Lucius, who both looked a bit surprised, though Hermione wasn't sure if that surprise was at Bellatrix's relative warmth or at her own behavior.

Hermione followed Bellatrix for only a moment before building up her resolve; there had been no mirrors on the train, and she had avoided any since they had been back, hesitant to find out what Dumbledore's cocktail left her looking like. "Could you actually show me to the loo first?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes but nodded, taking off abruptly in a different direction as Hermione followed behind.


End file.
